


Antiparavállo

by astronavigatrix



Series: A shadow thrives beside the light [2]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Intrigue, Kayn's considerable hubris will be the death of him, Magical Artifacts, Politics, Slow Burn, hell Zed & Akali might get in on that too, if Lux doesn't kill him first, or Rhaast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2019-09-29 04:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17196410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronavigatrix/pseuds/astronavigatrix
Summary: She'd known they'd meet again, she just hadn't imagined it being quite so soon.He'd known she would find her way to Ionia, he just figured it would be to stophim, not someone else.Neither one of them could have predicted just how far out of their hands things would get.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> _antiparavállo_ ; contrast, juxtapose

    
    
    
          Brilliant, almost blinding blue spanned as far as the eye could see, only a fine line of slightly darker azure splitting the sky and the sea. The _Phaeton_ cut through the waters easily, making remarkable time toward landfall; they would be within sight of the island continent before sunset. At least, that's what the captain had announced after having double checked the star charts upon waking that morning. Most of the crew had cheered; it was one step closer to completing their mission. What exactly that mission entailed was still a mystery; as a recently-hired member of the crew, the navigator was hardly privy to such information.  
  
       That _should_ have been the situation, at least, were she not on this ship exactly _because_ she had become privy to what they were up to.  
  
        Passing itself off for the last two years as a Zaunite-staffed but ultimately Piltovian merchant ship, the _Phaeton_ was the closest a Noxian vessel had gotten to Ionia in years. At least, the closest of a size to contain a full war party alongside its usually considerable cargo. Now, with a considerable inventory of sundries from the city of progress, albeit no hextech (at least, none that was on the manifest), the ship was heading right for the nation's largest port.  
  
        Or at least, that had been their intention; it had been the course she, as their navigator, had been told to plot out.  
  
        Instead, she knows from secreted accounts that the lights that flicker from the shore belong to Weh'le, not Fae'lor. She lets them keep sailing anyway, trying to spot a way ashore from her place in the crow's nest. Beneath her feet the ship dips and sways, and from her perch, it feels as if the world might drop out from under her at any minute. If she knows what's coming, it won't be too long before that becomes true. Even so, it never hurts to have a bit of security in place-- and so she continues channeling her magic through the mast, converging it along the bottom of the ship, a bright, glowing beacon for anything lurking beneath the waves. Docile as the ocean seems, she knows the tales about monsters beneath the waves are not limited to the Serpent Isles. Though the tales are old, second and third-hand at best, she's followed up on them enough to know which are exaggerations and which are not. And this close to a port rumored to be as inhospitable as Weh'le, she can't help but believe that there's certainly more to the tales of just how so many ships fail to dock there than simply the land's hostility to those it can sense do not belong.  
  
        It's not long before she learns that regardless of whether she's right or not, this route was probably the worst she could have settled on in order to deal with this threat-- at least, with regards to her own safety.  
  
        The first sign is the slight darkening of the sky, clouds gathering around the suddenly hazy sun. Their approach to the strait that houses Weh'le (and what luck that it and Fae'lor are both on the same side of similar landmarks) is met with a rapidly-greying sky. The rising of the waves is dismissed as the tumult of the water entering the narrow path they're taking, but the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise despite the assurances being bandied about by those below. Her smile, false but projecting more confidence than most of the rest, doesn't falter as she makes her way down the rigging to report the lights of a town near shore.  
  
        They're getting closer.  
  
        Clapping her shoulder with a meaty hand, the Captain laughs, and then turns to the first mate, who barks out something like 'suit up' in Ur-Nox, likely thinking that their 'lowborn' Navigator isn't bright enough or important enough to have been taught Noxus' root language. Lux only stands, waiting patiently, and pretends to busy herself with scanning the coastline. Excusing herself back toward the rigging, claiming to need a better vantage point to warn of the port properly, she climbs back up, looking down into the churning seas below the boat with growing trepidation. A light rain has picked up, though the sun is not yet entirely obscured, and she's still climbing when the boat seems to drop out from under her.  
  
        Having been in the midst of reaching for the next handhold, she's momentarily suspended in midair as the boat dips downward. Only quick reflexes save her from plummeting to the deck as the ship rises to put the rigging in reach once more, and she clings tight even as the waters begin to toss the ship violently. The roiling waters seem localized beneath their ship, churning out around them violently, even as the vessel tilts and rocks violently to and fro. Freshly-armed and armored crewmembers rise from belowdecks, apparently expecting to find an attack.  
  
        They are not kept waiting long.  
  
        Debris and detritus is launched at them by the waves; boulders and barrels alike crashing against the sides of the ship. They list dangerously to one side, scraping against the cliff walls lining part of the strait, and Lux scrambles to get back on solid ground, her perch no longer seeming like a wise idea. In the waters, as she moves, she sees the sleek, dark shapes of something beneath the waves, and swallows hard. She's a good swimmer, but whatever is down there glides beneath and along the ship sinuous and quick, and she doesn't like the way they seem to glint ominously even in the dimness surrounding them. Fog begins to roll in, whether because of the weather or the churning of the waters she cannot say. What she can say is that the ship gives one more great dip to one side, the current washing over the deck, and something hits them from below and the side all at once.  
  
        The Noxians, now panicking, begin trying to tie themselves to the lines in order to keep from sliding around. In the process of one of them reaching for a rope, the first one of the creatures from below makes itself known. Launching itself upward with a noise like a shriek, the fins along its back and sides expand, fluttering, as if helping keep it aloft as it snakes itself through the air, coiling around the man before dragging him over the railing.  
  
        A momentary, stunned silence falls then, even as they drop below the waterline once again, and then almost all at once they all begin running for the door to get below decks.  
  
        The sudden shift in weight throws them further off-kilter, and at the same time the hull creaks under the assault of another slam from... _something_. Her hands cling to the rigging as more of those shrieks fill the air, and now more and more of the serpentine creatures are launching themselves out of the water and onto the boat. Most of them are roughly the length of a man, thick and sinuous and gleaming green-black. Those only dive and turn if they don't reach a body to pull over.  
  
        Something hits the deck hard enough to make the wood buckle beneath it, and she and several of those heading for the door turn to see one the length of several men, roughly as thick as a young tree, and lunges at them like one of the great jungle serpents she'd once read about. She drops to the ground and it sails over her, landing in the thick of the soldiers and sailors behind her, thrashing about and sending what men and women don't wind up in its jaws careening around them. Many hit the deck like she had, a few go slipping and tumbling over the sides of the ship. Most simply try and escape through the door with greater urgency but to no avail.  
  
        There is blood in the water, and the frenzy beneath them is growing in intensity.  
  
        Battering themselves against the hull when they can't leap high enough to get aboard, the vessel is slowly but surely being listed sideways. If the hull doesn't crack, the overturning of the ship will fill it with water regardless. But if she can just get to one of the lifeboats over the side, she might be able to make it to shore. Drawing her magic back up into herself, she grabs her things from where they'd remained stashed behind some of the water barrels and begins a mad, haphazard dash toward escape. Noting her movements, several people try (unwisely) to follow her. Without hesitation, Lux slams her palm against the wood beneath her, jettisoning a light down at an angle toward the side of the ship.  
  
        It explodes, opening a hole for both the sea and its denizens to enter, and now the frantic screaming is coming from below as well. It reverberates oddly as it escapes into the gloom surrounding them, muffled equally by the water and the boat itself. Those above deck are screaming at her now as well, terror mingling with fury as they realize that she's leaving them for dead.  
  
        That she might be responsible for putting them in this situation to begin with.  
  
        Reaching one of the boats, she doesn't bother with the subterfuge of sawing through the ropes holding it fast with a knife. Her light pierces through them, and she throws the charred pieces behind her as the ship lurches again, this time rocking violently over to where the majority of its weight is held with the remaining, still-panicking crew. Securing her bag around her shoulders and waist, Lux reaches for the main line of the lifeboat as the main ship finally goes completely sideways, and throws it and her both loose and into the frothing morass of saltwater, flesh and blood. Overhead, the sky breaks open in earnest, and the rain further muddies the water as she hits it, slamming back-first through the surface, giving her just enough time to swallow a breath before she goes under.  
  
        Weighed down by her pack, Lux struggles to reach toward the boat, which even though capsized remains afloat. However, she begins to sink, and as she does, several of the slithering beasts begin to take notice as the air escapes her lungs. Struggling to unstrap herself of her burden, she fires off flashes of light to dissuade any of the creatures from coming closer. It does well enough to ward off the smaller ones, but the larger ones snap and twist toward her, even as she continues to try and free herself. However, her oxygen is running out, and if she doesn't do something quickly, she won't make it out of this either alive or in one piece.  
  
        At last, at least, the pack comes free, and she swings it around in an arc to give herself more room-- too slowly to be a threat, but quickly enough to be a deterrent. Opening it up, she allows its contents to float into the water, and though she mourns the loss of a great many of its contents, she takes hold of the only thing that matters and breaks for the surface.  
  
        Something coils around her thighs and _yanks_ , and the air leaves her lungs in a rush of fear and surprise.  
  
        A thick body winds around her, while more crash above. Even if she gets away from this one, there's no guarantee that another won't get a hold of her before she makes it to the surface. Able to tell that her vision is beginning to go dark despite the murk surrounding her, she considers her limited options and arrives at the only possibility that will get her out of this. Marshalling what remains of her strength, Lux draws upon the deep well of magic within herself she seldom touches, clutching her staff tight between her hands. She doesn't need it to channel like she usually would-- no, not today.  
  
        It begins as a pulse.  
  
        Steady and sure as her currently fluttering heart usually is, the light blooms around her, growing stronger with each beat. Some of the beasts falter, taking their already hard-won meals and escaping the expanding reach of her power. A fourth beat. A fifth...  
  
        On the sixth beat, Lux opens her eyes, staring dead into the approaching, open maw of one of the creatures, and lets the light _free_.  
  
        Around her, the sea boils, bodies fade to ash and ember, and sink in a cloudy miasma toward the seabed. It pierces her surroundings, leading her toward the surface as it parts the water with a bubbling hiss, splintering the overturned escape boat even as Lux kicks desperately toward it, the body that had previously weighed her down dispersed into little more than dust. Her hand breaches the water, flailing, grasping for anything to keep her afloat. Gripping the splintered edge of a bench, she hauls herself upward with effort, tethering her wand to her wrist with the remnants of a rope slung over the hull of her craft, and falls against it, spent.  
  
        Only the tie at her wrist keeps her from sinking completely under once again as exhaustion from exerting that much magic finally renders her unconscious.  


* * *

  
  
        Deep in meditation, cloistered within a safehouse on the way to the order of Shadows, Kayn feels rather than sees the eye on Rhaast's scythe snap open. The balance of magic in Ionia is something few in the nation can truly sense, outside of obvious tells. It is a subtle current, whirling and eddying throughout the land, healing what needs it, destroying what threatens it. To feel the latter in the direction he does is no strange thing; Weh'le is notoriously unwelcoming of any other than its own, mostly fishermen or pearl-divers that trawl near the port's shores. Even then, those that venture from it to do so, do so at their own peril-- one misstep and the port will react as inhospitably as it would to any foreign invader. In this case, it seems as if the foreign invaders did not come without magic of their own, and he presumes hextech until something creeps across his senses--  
  
        (the faint flicker of copper over blonde, teal over blue, fair, gossamer hair fanning over his chest like a gilded spiderweb as the glamour attempted to persist even in sleep)  
  
        --for Kayn, this bloom of foreign magic unfurls across his senses like a bomb, a signal flare.  
  
        An unfortunately familiar one at that.  
  
        He's picking up Rhaast before he can even think twice about it, slinking into the shadows in order to move out of the building more swiftly.  
  
" **What** ," Rhaast mocks, thrumming with amusement and anticipation both in his grip, " **not going to think to _ask_ if you can go out and play?**"  
  
        Kayn's grip shifts as he darts through the darkness, imperceptible, untouchable.  
  
"Let's consider it... _taking initiative_ ," he replies almost distractedly, swinging out below the shadow of a branch and peering in the direction of the unusual clouds rolling over the sky. Rhaast's rasping laughter swirls in his head as he does, and Kayn closes his eyes to momentarily shove him down. He's meant to be heading in the opposite direction, back toward the Temple, to show his Master the proof of his completion of his final task. As an acolyte, he should head back first, ask permission to seek information on what he suspects rather than head off on his own. It's two days journey at least to the temple from where he is, and to Weh'le at a hard pace, he's aware, is closer to one and a half if he only dozed in between long spurts. Something he could do easily, even before Rhaast's power was added to his own.  
  
        Light erupts through the storm, a singular, familiar beacon-- incandescent pillar flickering, unsteady at its previously 'solid' edges, then fading into nothing as soon as it had come.  
  
        Kayn tightens his grip on Rhaast and decides he can make it in under one; his praise will come regardless as soon as he returns.  


* * *

  
  
"Over here--!"  
  
        A voice rises over the din of the rest, working and haggling over the remnants of the ship blown apart in the previous afternoon's sudden storm. Though they intended only to take what could reasonably be used, the fact that it had been a Noxian ship made taking everything they could from it imperative. After all, it was only right, considering it was what the barbarians would have done in return-- and the people of Weh'le were as unforgiving to their nation's invaders as their port's waters. The voice came from one of the smaller skiffs collecting the drifting wooden remnants to be repurposed, and when the others neared, they understood the urgency in the tone.  
  
        Golden hair plastered to a youthful face belied her origins being far from Ionia's shores. The magic swirling around and within her unconscious form, however, made her a markedly singular existence. Even if they lived in harmony with their Land's magic, few were those who held it naturally within them, rather than harnessing it from sources surrounding them. It made her more of a danger than they could possibly fathom, and though they did not dare kill her (if the land and the sea had not taken her, there was a reason) there were few among them that could handle such a person when her strength was eventually regained. Pulling her aboard a more empty vessel, she was taken back to shore, carried to the closest healer by the owner of the ship. His partner heads to Bo'lii's tavern instead of following, having decided that erring on the side of caution was in his best interests.  
  
        When he explains the situation to her, Akali agrees.


	2. In the dead of night strange things happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interrogation isn't really Akali's strong suit; Kayn finds the kunoichi's failure utterly hilarious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sincere thanks to everyone reading and leaving comments/kudos-- they're a good part of what keep me going with this.

   
   
   
"You recover fast, for a Noxian."   
  
        The words greet her like a slap to the face as soon as she's helped to sit up, the person at her side shooting a nervous look at her accuser. She doesn't reply, at first in part because her mouth feels like sandpaper and she's not sure she could form a vowel sound even if she wanted to. It's also in part because this girl-- who looks barely Lux's height, let alone her age-- has just called her a Noxian. Her eyes cast about until she spots a pitcher, and she gestures at it, heaving a rasping breath that has the healer nodding his understanding. Sparing him a grateful look, though not her trademark smile just yet, she bobs her head in thanks as she's handed what looks more like a small, rounded saucer than a glass, sipping the water gently. There's a certain cleanness to it that she's not sure even Demacia's waters can boast, cool and soothing in a way she's never known water to be before. Each sip she takes soothes her parched throat and lips both, easing the lingering taste of saltwater as she drinks. By the time the cup is gone, she can heave a soft, grateful sigh without feeling as if she might scrape her throat raw doing so.   
  
        She does smile then, warm if a bit weary, and bows her head carefully.   
  
        Her body still feels sore and drained, but she feels a bit less like she's falling to pieces, and that's enough to be grateful for. A sharp word from the girl near the door has the healer's smile in return falling almost instantly, and he stands, nervously, looking between her and the brunette at the door with obvious trepidation. The girl repeats the word again, softer, more dangerous this time; an obvious threat, and one that works despite the way the man winces and looks back at Lux nervously. He still slinks out of the room with some hesitation, sharp amber eyes following him before they turn back to her. The mask covering the lower half of her face makes it hard to pinpoint just what the other is feeling, but if Lux had to hazard a guess, she'd put her money on 'sneering in distaste' if the narrowing of those sharp eyes was any indication. Lux stares back evenly, rolling the now-empty cup around in the curve between her finger and thumb, slow, careful movements to help center and ground her. The other girl twitches at the motion, the lines of her body screaming that she's prepared to be attacked even with something so relatively harmless. It takes everything Lux has not to scoff.   
  
        Really, what sort of amateur have they foisted her off on now?  
  
"So can you speak Ionian or what, Noxian?" The girl demands after another few tense instants of Lux's even, blue stare, and the blonde's nose wrinkles in distaste.   
  
"I'm not a Noxian," she corrects, her voice faltering on some of the unfamiliar syllable clusters of the Ionian dialect she's most familiar with, "but even so, my Ionian is rudimentary, at best."  
  
"Hah! 'Rudimentary' she says," is the scoffing rejoinder, causing Lux to give another sigh, this one exasperated. "Do you hear yourself? That's more than 'rudimentary', blondie."  
  
        The word is a diminutive conjugation of the words for 'golden' and 'fine-haired', Lux notes idly to herself, so her understanding of it might be incorrect. But, given the context clues, she can be fairly certain that her inference is right. Regardless, the word doesn't bother her, observational as it is, and she only looks back, composed as ever, awaiting whatever else the other has to say. Of course, she doubts her origins will be easily-believed, especially depending on where and how she was found and rescued (for which she really must properly express her gratitude to those responsible at some point) but she isn't going to dwell on the fact. All she can do is tell them where she's from and hope they know enough to realize that no Noxian would ever willingly claim to be Demacian. If they don't, given that she'd likely washed in along with the remnants of a Noxian raiding party, she'd have to figure out a less delicate means to see her way back home. From what she understood of Ionia, she knew she would at least be given a trial if nothing else, rather than simply being pronounced guilty, but she really had no proof besides her word that she was who she said she was.   
  
        All of that was as sunk as the ship she'd initially arrived in.

"If you're not a Noxian," the brunette picks up, pushing away from the wall with her shoulder and stopping in front of her, "then where are you from? You're not wearing nearly enough strange metal contraptions to be from Piltover." In her hand, what looks like a small throwing knife twirls around her finger by the loop atop its handle. From her stance, Lux surmises the other girl is going for casual intimidation, and while it might work on civilians, the spy is unmoved. "Don't look like you get enough sun to be Shuriman either." The little knife turns neatly in her hand and twists across her knuckles before coming to a halt with its tip pointed at Lux. Blue eyes look from the weapon to the girl holding it, and Lux's brows rise, expectant but also slightly derisive. "So what are you?"   
  
"Why don't you take a few more wild guesses based on conjecture and I'll tell you if you're right?" Lux offers brightly, prompting the narrowing of amber eyes and a hand finding itself on her arm. When the girl had moved closer Lux wasn't sure, but it was the first time so far she'd been anything close to impressed. Her eyes drop to the hand on her arm, and then rise to meet the sharp glare leveled at her with her mouth curling into an entirely too-polite smile. "Or you could at least have the manners to let me recuperate a little before you start winging any more accusations at me."  
  
        She only says it because she can tell this girl's already declared herself judge, jury and executioner; the burning anger in her eyes declares she's made up her mind about Lux's guilt, and has no intention of changing her mind about it, no matter what. Her words are met with a cold stare, and then a hand fists into the front of her shirt, half-dragging her out of the bed she's been resting in. Too weak to really put up much of a fight, Lux can only stumble forward, flailing one hand awkwardly out to keep her balance. A harsh yank, her body shoved forward, and she's all but tossed into the chair the girl had previously inhabited. If it weren't for the mask she was wearing, Lux is certain she'd see a sneer in place on the other's mouth. A length of rope is uncoiled slowly, meaningfully, in front of her eyes as Lux tries to push herself properly upright despite her swimming vision, the sudden motions making her stomach roil unpleasantly.   
  
        Nearly drowning, she surmises bitterly, is not something she's keen on repeating soon.  
  
"Well then," the girl in the mask hums, shoving Lux upright against the back of the chair and jolting her head back with entirely too much force, "why don't we make you more comfortable, huh?"   
  
        Lux's only response is to empty what little contents remained in her stomach over the brunette's shoes.

 

* * *

 

        The route to Weh'le is ill-kept and overgrown, and Kayn doesn't doubt that those who reside in the port prefer it that way. If he weren't already well-acquainted with its existence as well as the area surrounding it, he'd be having a much harder time of it. Of course, unlike most, he can make his own way around the tangles of tree roots and low-hanging branches, nearly ignoring the often thorny underbrush in favor of the shadows beneath aforementioned roots and branches. What little fauna resides this close to a settlement steers clear of him-- whether out of instinct or, more plausibly, due to Rhaast's presence alongside his, regardless of whether the scythe is being brandished or not. Suspiciously enough, there is little commentary from the being residing in his mind until Kayn is within spitting distance of his goal, at which point Rhaast sees fit to stretch himself over the back of Kayn's mind. The assassin braces himself for the upswing in violent urges that is sure to come, but to his surprise, they're muted. Mostly because Rhaast seems, if nothing else, _amused_.   
  
        That sets Kayn on edge more than the violence.   
  
**So tell me,**  Rhaast begins, almost sounding gleeful, **when you find the girl,** because there's not an 'if' about it and Rhaast knows it, **what exactly are you planning to do with her? Going to bring her to your Master as a trophy? An apology, perhaps, for your delay?**  
  
"I have nothing to apologize for," Kayn scoffs, turning the scythe's handle around his wrist to bring its bright scarlet eye close to his face. "What makes you think I plan to do anything  _with_ her to begin with?"  
  
**Well otherwise, what's the point of going to _find_ her?**  
  
        That brings Kayn's traversal through the thinning wilderness come to a halt, as if the thought hadn't really struck him; Rhaast knows for a fact that it sincerely had not. His reaction to the girl's magic had been automatic, in motion before he could even question himself-- a fact which Kayn wasn't looking to pick up as a _habit_. The Darkin has a point, however; there is no _reason_  for him going to look for her, not really. Assuming she's still alive after whatever that business had been (and for the life of him he can't imagine that she isn't) then it'll be her own fault if she can't  _keep_ herself out of any more trouble. He has no reason to try and help her, no reason to go out of his way to find her and pull her out of the fire. At least, no reason that would be deemed acceptable by the Order. But Kayn recalls the warmth of her magic over his face like a second skin and the shadows in her eyes when they'd parted ways, and resolves himself to repay her. It's the least he can do, for all of her unprompted assistance, before. He can tell, albeit hazily, that Rhaast (in his own way) agrees, though there's still the desire to keep her around as a toy. Kayn ignores that and refocuses on the task at hand: find the girl, get her out of trouble.   
  
        After that, any other help she might need will come at a price.    
  
**Look at you,**  Rhaast leers, the sensation of him looming and irksome, **thinking _ahead_. No need to thank me, you know. I'm sure it would have come up on its own. **  
  
        Kayn rolls his eyes and resumes his forward movement, the scattered outskirts of Weh'le coming into view in the distance. The first few homesteads are spaced apart, some for growing, some for privacy. The closer one gets to the port proper, never mind the actual dock, the more crowded together the homes and buildings become. All he can hope is that he can avoid heading too deep into the town, but if he knows the residents, they'll take her to the healer most out of the way. To avoid too many people and too many questions. It's a lucky thing he happens to know of a few such people fitting that description that he can visit. He just... has to be careful slipping into the town properly. Before, it would have been unlikely that anyone looked at him twice without Rhaast in hand. However, with recent developments, he knew his appearance would draw more eyes than he'd care to have on him.  
  
        (Not for the first time, he thinks how useful Lux's talents are for fieldwork, and thinks what a pity it is she's so indelibly  _good_.)  
  
**Oh, I'm sure you could change her mind,** Rhaast rumbles, sly and goading. **After all, she didn't seem to mind you _too_ much, did she? And she is just  _so_ curious about what makes us tick.**  
  
        Kayn scoffs, but he's not going to deny that using the girl's clear thirst for knowledge against her hadn't crossed his mind, because it had. That much magic, that much control, and yet so little finesse, in the long run. Her talents were great, her promise even greater. But even though she claimed to embrace her magic, Kayn could tell now that he had Rhaast, that she was almost always holding herself back. Considering how deep that well ran, Kayn wasn't surprised a girl as gentle as she seemed to prefer to be was so hesitant to use the full breadth of her power. However, there was  _potential_ there, in the way she didn't hesitate to fry Noxians where they stood, in the way she had figured out so many applications of a power that in other, less clever hands would hardly be used to its full potential. If he could influence her in the slightest with all the knowledge he possessed of the Order's techniques, he didn't doubt she'd find a way to turn them all on their heads in one way or another.   
  
        Even if he didn't want to try and lure her to his--  _their_ \-- side, the concept was an interesting one, to see what kind of challenge she'd pose.  
  
        A moment later, Kayn recognizes Rhaast's influence and shakes the thoughts away, irritated. As if he could be so easily convinced to give away secrets so hard-won after gaining Master Zed's approval.  
  
**It was worth a shot** , Rhaast thrums flippantly, and Kayn huffs and sinks into the shadows of a nearby tree, traversing to the shaded side of a nearby farmhouse in the span of a few breaths. He has to take care that he doesn't fully exhaust himself before he finds her, needing energy to remain for their retreat. The word spikes an angry discomfort from his 'guest', and Kayn sneers at the fact that Rhaast would deem a retreat as good as a defeat. It was almost no wonder the Darkin had been locked up for so long, if that was how he treated all of his hosts, most of whom Kayn had assumed weren't  _nearly_ as well-trained as he was. He considers this as he slinks into the first of the 'clinics' run in the back rooms of small, often decrepit homes in Weh'le, searching for the familiar, warm curl of the girl's magic. 

 

* * *

 

        Kayn finds her in the third place he looks, the first two pointing his way after the exchange of a few words-- and coins. Kayn didn't, technically, have any use for the money he'd been given for his 'trip', and he'd no intention of leaving Ionia's shores again if he could at all help it. But secluded as it was, Weh'le was still a port town, and those coming or going would often have need of coin in one way or another. Parting with it for what he wanted seemed only prudent, especially since he wanted to find his quarry as quickly as possible. When he peers through the shadows of the room she's being held in, however, he spots an immediate and unfortunate obstacle:   
  
        The former Fist of Shadow stands before the bound blonde, hands on her hips and shoulders tense, and he has no doubt that if he could see her face it would be in that familiar, furious pinch of frustration.   
  
        He also spots Lux's face as she sees his eyes gleaming in the shadows over the kunoichi's shoulders, though thankfully her expression gives away nothing. Even as he watches though, he spots the shadows beneath her lengthen in the flickering lamplight, which seems to brighten and steady without reason. Akali doesn't even notice. That he didn't even have to signal her for the fact is more pleasing than he will admit, and he flashes her a smirk as he sinks back into the shadows, awaiting his chance. Lux's tongue flicks over her lips, a deep breath inhaled, and she clears her throat, drawing the brunette's attention. Golden eyes alight on her, and Lux looses her breath in a sigh, head shaking.  
  
"For the last time," she begins, "let me go, or you're  _really_ not going to enjoy the consequences. I'm not doing any harm, and the fact that you can't tell that much from the fact that I sank an entire raiding party,"  _showoff_ , Kayn thinks, "isn't my problem. I really don't care for Noxians any more than you do, so you have no reason to keep me here besides petty prejudice."   
  
"You think I'm just going to believe that?" Comes the immediate, indignant snap, as if the mere implication that her opinion is clouded by Lux's foreign features is insulting instead of true.  
  
"If you were as smart as you think you are?" Lux questions, looking unimpressed. "Why wouldn't you?"   
  
"Fine," Akali hisses, unhooking her kama from her belt. "If you won't tell me  _anything_ , then there's no point in keeping you alive, is there?"  
  
        It's meant to be little more than a threat, Kayn can tell, even as she twirls the kama to build up speed, swinging it at the blonde's neck with the intent of stopping it just short of doing more than drawing a bit of blood.   
  
        Instead, a great, curved blade meets the threatening arc of her kama, rising from where her own shadow has suddenly, inexplicably met the blonde's, and only reflexes honed from her years of training allow her to dodge the twisting slash that follows the parry. It follows through regardless, and too late does she realize the great blade's true target. It's gone into her shadow before she can trace it, and the blonde rocks herself backward now that her legs are free, rolling backward once her body hits the ground and sliding her hips between her arms as she ends up in a crouch, albeit at least on her feet. A flash goes off behind her back, and her hands come around, fingers rubbing delicately at her wrists as the tip of a staff rises between her feet, held aloft by a familiar hand, Kayn appearing wraithlike before her as he offers her disguised weapon, Rhaast held casually against his hip. The slight scuffing of Akali's foot as she slides into a combative stance precludes her voice.   
  
" _Kayn_ ," is hissed out into the air between the three of them, and Lux looks between her and him, head cocking.   
  
"Ex?" She quips, drawing a snort from him and a sputter from her (and Rhaast's roaring laughter, though that is lost to her) as Kayn slinks a hand around her waist.   
  
"She only wishes," he replies, and barely dodges the kunai that answers his flippant response, head swinging languidly in the kunoichi's direction. "Do you  _mind_?"  
  
"I'm not one to waste a distracted target," she snaps back, moving as if to dart toward him and finding herself stuck in place. Looking down, she spots light ringing her ankles, locking her in place, and the blonde cants a smug brow at her, tip of her staff swinging a slow arc around her own ankles.   
  
"Sorry, but _who's_ the distracted one?"  
  
        Kayn barks a laugh, offering his hand gallantly, and Lux takes it with a winning smile, stepping into his shadow as he tugs her close enough for the lack of space between their receding forms to pass off as intimate. Lux gives the assassin they leave behind one last wink as they go, fluttering her fingers goodbye before she disappears.   
  
"Don't worry, it'll disappear once I'm out of range."   
  
        Once a couple of minutes without her continued presence have passed, actually, but that truth is best left unspoken. The kunai launched at her head rebound off the side of Kayn's scythe, and her smile turns disdainful as she snatches one up, twirling it around her finger.  
  
"Really? No one likes a sore loser you know," she hums as she sinks fully into the shadow, breath caught in her lungs as she feels Kayn maneuver them toward what she assumes is the edge of the village, fingers clutching tighter to his arm than she'd really care for. As soon as they land on the solid earth just behind a great tree, the defiant strength she'd displayed to Akali drains from her, and she sags on her feet, body seeing fit to remind her will that she is still half-drowned at best. Akali's enraged yell follows them as they sink further into the woods, Kayn's arm around her waist, her hands gripping falteringly to him wherever she can after tucking the kunai into one of her boots.   
  
"Thank you," she says, softly, and Kayn tenses beside her, but snorts and hitches his arm more carefully around her ribs and under her opposite arm.   
  
"Consider it a repayment for the Noxtoraa," he replies coolly, and she laughs softly, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth in disappointment.   
  
"Awww, and here I was hoping to hold that over you for a bit longer," she half-whines, though the weak laughter in her voice lessens it considerably.   
  
"Were you  _planning_ on meeting me again in order to make use of it, little light?" He teases, and she stumbles as she tilts her head up to look down at him, smile still in place despite the obvious weariness in her expression.   
  
"You... only wish..."  
  
        He barely has time to catch her as her eyes roll upward and her legs give out, sliding his arm down toward her waist. He bends easily at the knees and rolls her prone form onto his shoulder, and imagines the indignation he'll be met with when she realizes she was carried out of danger like a sack of potatoes. He relishes the thought already.  
  
**The other girl is coming** , Rhaast's voice warns, seemingly delighted at the prospect of the battle. But Kayn has spent himself too much just to get here, and he's in no shape to match Akali truly. Especially not with a handicap.  
  
"Let her," Kayn sneers, sinking back into the shadow of a tree. "She'll find nothing to follow."  
  
        Rhaast's snarl echoes in his head for what seems like ages when he turns to run.


	3. who's in your shadows?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kayn finds himself dealing with a half-delirious mage. Lux finds herself unable to keep her mouth shut.

    
    
    
        Traversing the mountain range to the north of Weh'le was the fastest way back toward the Monastery. It was also, given the state of his current 'companion', entirely out of the question.  
  
         He would have to head West, then cross the river someplace safe, and make his way North from there-- presuming, of course, the aforementioned companion didn't cause any more complications. Unlike Lux, Kayn wasn't so familiar with the area surrounding Weh'le that he could find them an easy place to rest. Instead, they ended up perched precariously in a tree when his strength finally gave out, and he managed to maneuver her against his chest with one arm while keeping hold of Rhaast with the other. Lashing himself to the branch, and Lux to himself, he'd crossed his legs, leaned back against the trunk, and fallen asleep to the faintly-labored breathing of the blonde in his lap. In his sleep, Rhaast battered against his mind, attempting to wrest control from him while he rested. Even in his sleep, Kayn was not so easily overtaken, sleeping hands tightening their grip on the scythe laid across his knees to make sure his companion wouldn't tip herself sideways out of his arms, pressing the blade against the branch upon which he sat, warning even in his sleep. Not that he thought the action would dull Rhaast's blade in the slightest, but it was meant to be more of a warning than anything-- stop, or something unpleasant would happen.  
  
         Rhaast, of course, didn't listen in the slightest, and no more than four hours later, Kayn was on his feet again.  
  
        Against his chest, Lux trembled with a low sound, sweat beading along her hairline. The sight pulled his mouth into a displeased shape, realizing that before he'd be able to get her to repay him for his generosity, he'd have to make sure she'd actually make it through the next few days. It was clear that Akali had either interrupted or delayed whatever healing she was meant to have in order to question her. It was a valid tactic, especially if Lux became ill or out of sorts enough for her guard to drop. Valid, but now a problem for Kayn, who knew the closest village was entirely too far to expect her to make it to. Especially when he was hardly capable of getting the both of them there at his usual speed. He silently cursed his mental companion, whose restless, violent energy was coursing through Kayn even now. It was unnerving to feel Rhaast's bloodthirst always so close to the surface. Kayn had no qualms with violence, when necessary... or when he felt it warranted. The constant desire for bloodshed that pulsed at the back of his mind, like a constant, dim ache, however, was entirely Rhaast's very much unwelcome influence. He couldn't consider himself any better than the Noxians if he killed as thoughtlessly as they did.   
  
        Lux stirred slightly in his hold once more, and he found himself thinking, without much hesitation, that she'd agree.  
  
        Right. She was still indisposed, and unlikely to get better without proper rest and something to fight off whatever was causing her fever, though he could hazard a guess. After all, one didn't simply end up submerged in the waters at Weh'le without incurring some of Ionia's native wrath. Though the magic would wear off soon enough, the symptoms still needed to be dealt with. The first thing he needed, in that case, would be a place to let her rest while he figured out how to get the medicines he'd need into her body. The second would be the medicines in question, and it was really a fortunate thing that most of the Order was trained in basic first aid and herbalism.   
  
**Playing doctor now, are we? Aren't you supposed to be good at _taking_ lives, not saving them?**  
  
        Kayn opens his mouth, retort loaded and instead nearly stumbles in the path he's taking down from the tree as Lux's voice pipes, raspy and exhausted:  
  
"--goodness _sake_ , don't you have a lower decibel range you loud idiot?"   
  
        Rhaast's startled (then swiftly affronted) silence is almost enough to make Kayn less concerned about the fact that she'd heard him. As swiftly as she'd roused, Lux falls back into labored unconsciousness, and Kayn can't afford to dwell too much on it. Instead he adjusts his grip on her, making sure Rhaast is equally secure against his back, and takes off. Bounding from branch to branch is a familiar enough exercise that he doesn't have to think too hard about his movement. Instead, he focuses on the path he intends to take, and the things he'll need to find to make sure she doesn't die.   
  
        Not before he can get more than a thanks and her sweat against his shoulder for all the trouble he's going through. 

 

* * *

  
  
        Akali, he knows, will be swift on their trail.   
  
       He's at a disadvantage, unable to traverse the roads with Lux in his arms and Rhaast on his back. He's also unable to travel at what he considers a reasonable pace due to both the burdens. If there's any reprieve to the situation it's that Akali has no clue what exact direction he's heading in. Lacking any magic, she's unable to track the ebb and flow of the nation's inherent magical currents around him, slight as they are. More importantly, she won't be able to track Lux, whose very presence stirs the trees around them as if they'd look to her as easily as they would the sun.   
  
        (He doesn't dwell on it, but he's once more impressed at the sheer breadth of her power, and wonders what it'd be like if she only had more chance to really  _use_ it. )  
  
        There are no mountains in his path, no convenient caves for them to settle in. However there are trees, and as the forest behind him opens into a wide field with a copse of thick-rooted putat trees on the other side, he thinks things might be looking up. The blooms and leaves of the trees will help, but the plants that grow around the inundated roots will help more, so that's lucky. He catches sight of a fish pond as he darts between the long shadows of the markers used in the fields, and hums pensively.   
  
        Very lucky indeed.  
  
        Ensconcing his passenger in a thin veil of shadow beneath the hollow space in the roots of one of the trees isn't difficult. He does his best to perch her away from the moist ground, resolving that the nearby farmstead will be providing them more hospitality than he'd thought. Sinking into the shadows, he makes the small, rounded rush of sprouts that comprises the storage his first stop. Inside there are tools, heavy stone plow blades leaning near the entrance. Kayn momentarily tests the weight of a harvest scythe and then puts it down, his thoughts lingering on how difficult an improvised weapon it had been, at one time. Turning his attention from it to the things he needs, he locates the oilcloths first, hanging in a small alcove next to the door, and packs for holding items during travel or long days. Into that goes a third oilcloth, along with a few coils of hemp and a few small, thin reeds usually used as support for new growth. There is a camping kit, but he won't be able to make use of it, he knows-- not without giving away their location to anyone who might be able to see the smoke.   
  
        Thankfully, at least for tonight, they won't need a fire.   
  
        From the shed, Kayn makes his way toward the fish pond, camping bag slung over one shoulder. Between the reeds and his claws, the fish are easy to catch and gut, and he gives brief thanks to their remaining brethren before turning and making his way into the house, skimming the shadows at the edges of the rooms to make certain he's not seen. In the pantry, he finds tubers, flatbread and a jar of some manner of spread, but it's the large hearth serving as both heater and cooking pit between the kitchen and the living area that catches his attention. Just as he'd hoped. Tugging a couple of leaves from his waistband, he slices the fish open with his clawed left hand, stuffing them with some of the aromatics from the pantry and then wraps them in the leaves along with the now-halved tubers. He buries them under the coals carefully, holding back a hiss from the heat, and then turns his attention to the rest of the house. Moving from room to room with care, he can only hope to find a storeroom, or an empty bedroom. He doesn't find either, but does find another small alcove with spare bed linens, tugging something thick and knit from the available fabrics. The sound of shuffling behind him has him ducking into the shadow of a doorway in order to get back into the pantry, breath picking up. He doesn't want to be caught, because that means he'll have to do something to keep them from talking, and that will simply be more evidence for Akali to follow.   
  
**Do it anyway** , Rhaast rumbles lazily, as if the thought is an idle amusement at best, **they're hardly living in the lap of luxury**.  
  
_But they **are** living_, Kayn replies tersely, rummaging through the pantry once more for a waterskin. _We should keep it that way for our own sake_.   
  
        But their property? Well, he considers that a fair enough exchange for their continued existence.   
  
        Waterskin in hand, he makes his way to the barrel holding the household's drinking water and begins to fill it, keeping his senses sharp on the world outside the door. Not that he has doubts about his stealth, but it's not  _him_ he has to worry about. Someone stumbling upon him in a nighttime wandering would be unfortunate for them-- and their whole family. And if here ends up slaughtering the farmers because of that, it certainly won't be his fault. Or so he thinks, in any case. Something about that train of thought amuses Rhaast, but when Kayn extends a questioning tendril of thought, the darkin ignores it.  
  
      For his part, Rhaast can only marvel at the hoops the  human jumps through to justify doing what is his right as someone with power.   
  
      The shuffling outside fades and Kayn puts it down to someone perhaps tending to the fire or to their own nightly needs. Regardless, he slips back out to the hearth, collects the packages he'd set to cook, and then makes his way quickly back to where he'd left Lux.   
  
      The sight of her is a relief, the concern that she'd be found while he was away unnecessary but nonetheless prevalent. Despite him having left her laying down, however, he's surprised to find her sitting up, and the sound of his footsteps (light as they are) still startles her eyes open, the hazy blue hues unusually bright behind the dull gold of her lashes. He watches her tense, drawing into herself as he approaches, and he senses the magic flowing around her at the same time as he catches the glimmers of light at her fingertips. Once again, he can't help but find himself a bit impressed. Feverish, weak and half-dazed, she's still making am attempt to try and protect herself from someone she can't make out as friend or foe.   
  
"Here I am, slaving away to make sure you don't starve, and this is the greeting I get? Little bird, you disappoint me."  
  
      He watches her shoulders go slack with relief at the sound of his voice, her eyes squinting as if to better focus on him in the gloom.   
  
"...I thought I was dreaming." The admission is soft, a wondering sort of tone to her voice as she takes a slow, labored breath. "Though I admit, I should have known I wasn't."  
  
"Is that so? Did you dream of me often, in the weeks since we parted?"  
  
"Oh yes," Lux admits, shameless and coy, corner of her mouth lifting up in the way she has that lets Kayn know what's to follow will not be kind. "And actually beating you in hand to hand was satisfying every time."  
  
      Peering up at him with her still-blurry vision, Lux watches him bow his head forward to stifle his chuckle against the side of his hand, while the larger, shadowy figure behind him seems to heave a silent sigh.   
  
"I suppose your dreams is the only place you'd get the better of me," he replies, beginning to unload his bounty from the bag. "Though regardless... I'm not surprised I've left such an impression."  
  
"Well, at least you think I'm funny," she mumbles, beginning to feel the adrenaline that had woken her wear off and making her sag back against the root she'd been leaned against. "Especially since your big friend doesn't seem to be too amused."  
  
      Kayn halts in spreading an oilcloth over the ground, staring at her with surprise in his eyes. The red one, she notes absently, is even brighter now than before. Heaving a sigh through her nose, she closes her eyes, just in time to miss seeing Kayn give the weapon still strapped to his back an incredulous look. She's drifting between conscious and unconscious when she feels his touch on her arm, careful but urgent, prompting her eyes to open once again. There's a water skin in his hands and Lux discovers she's never been so happy for something as simple as something to drink. The cool water douses the desert her mouth has become, and she sits up a little straighter, drinking greedily before Kayn reaches out to stop her. Carefully, she's pulled upright, and the folded package of fish and tubers is unwrapped in her lap. With the lack of food she's had over the last three days, Lux can feel her mouth watering the instant the scent of 'food' hits her nostrils, and she tears into it indelicately, not quite lucid enough to care for manners. Kayn settles in cross-legged in front of her, eating far more sedately, and it's only as she flips the fish over to get to the meat on the other side of its spines that she pauses, looking up at him. Cheeks stuffed, a bit of juice is smeared along the corner of her mouth, which she wipes at almost comically slowly with the back of her hand as the heat rises in her face. Kayn doesn't hide his snickering this time, and the heat his laughter inspires spreads over her face and neck like a flame, making the already feverish blonde feel lightheaded.   
  
"I'll take it as a compliment to my cooking," he finally breathes when his quiet laughter subsides, and Lux cocks her head, as if only now realizing that he couldn't have simply  _bought_ this food. Not with how far away it seems like they are from civilization (as she knows it, at least).   
  
"You cook?" Her tone is more incredulous than she'd intended, but with the way Kayn acts, she hadn't expected him to care for anything that didn't help him kill people faster.   
  
"We take turns on kitchen duty at the temple, when we're young," he replies without meaning to, and then slants her a look. "Am I to take it," he adds, hoping to distract her from the unintentional tidbit of information, "that the talented little spy couldn't find her way around a kitchen with a map?"   
  
      His tone borders on teasing, but it only makes Lux a little sullen. She  _could_ have learned, she supposed, but it had never seemed important with everything else she had to worry about. Still, she knows he didn't mean to actually hit any sore spots, and so Lux gives him a wry smile, the flush remaining on her skin more fever than embarrassment. Fingers pick at her fish as she considers what to say, and she lets them hover in front of her lips for a moment, pensive. They're so far from Demacia, and it isn't as if Kayn plans to return to the mainland, so it can't hurt...  
  
"A Crownguard," she says loftily, lashes lowering as she lifts her chin in feigned arrogance, "has no need to prepare her own meals." The joke, she notes immediately, falls far more flat than she thought it might. Kayn's eyes are sharp and calculating as they look at her, and she can nearly hear the gears turning in his head.   
  
      For all that he considers himself Ionian now, Kayn's life began as a son of Noxus. And as a son of Noxus, he'd learned the names of the most important and vaunted of their enemies before he'd learned the names of the streets he ran ramshackle through. 'Crownguard' is one such name, and he suddenly understands how Lux had lived so long in Demacia as a mage. The privilege of her birth compared to his... the disparity was astounding. Thinking about what she'd told him, about the Demacia she believed in, part of him couldn't help but think that of  _course_ she saw the good in the nation when she was so heavily insulated from its truths. But he'd spent enough time with her, heard her ramble enough about how she wanted to help 'fix' her homeland that he knew better than that. It was astonishing for another reason then, honestly-- Lux had no need to abandon her position, to jeopardize what she'd been born into and had been protecting her all her life, simply for the sake of wanting to help others. Others like her in nature, if not in status.   
  
      Knowing her only seemed to get more surprising by the minute.   
  
"I wasn't aware Crownguards would be left to wander so far from their home," he finally huffed, seeming amused. Lux's breath seemed to leave her in a rush, as if she'd been holding it. "Then again, I'm sure you've got your reasons for  _that_  too."   
  
"Yeah, but..." Lux reaches for the water skin again, hesitant, and at Kayn's nod, scoops it up to sip more delicately. "Sorry. State secrets. You know how it is."   
  
"Yes," he says, and reaches to take the water skin from her, taking a swig of his own and then toasting her vaguely with the mouthpiece. "I suppose I do. Now... you'll want to save some of this. You still have some medicine to take."  
  
      By the look on Lux's face, he can tell she's not even remotely pleased to hear the fact. He leaves her to stew in the possibilities of what she might have to take in order to better her health as he slips into the cover of the shadows to gather the appropriate herbs. Away from her, the silence of the grove is oppressive, broken only as Rhaast finally breaks his surprising silence to speak, sounding far too intrigued for Kayn's liking.   
  
**The girl can hear me, despite the fact that I do not call for her.**  
  
"I know."  
  
**That _could_ be trouble later on. For both of us.**  
  
"I know."   
  
**Yet you still plan to bring her with you?**  
   
      Kayn halts as he locates some of the herbs he needs, picking the plants with a particular kind of viciousness.   
  
"We can't let her power fall into anyone else's hands."   
  
      Rhaast chuckles, entirely too smug.  
**  
I know.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a million years but at last writer's block has relinquished its hold on me. Look forward to the pace picking up a bit in the next chapter to make up for the short length of this one.


End file.
